The Final 48

So now I'm down to the last 48 hours in Army, and most likely Manhattan, KS as well. Needless to say, it's quite exciting, and I'm finding it very hard to concentrate. Maybe later I'll be able to explain more, but my attention span has been extremely short as of late.

Laters.

Colloquialisms, Euphemisms, and Idioms

So a friend and I had a discussion on the difference between colloquialisms, euphemisms, and idioms, and we couldn't come to a proper conclusion. I did some quick homework and found out (and they are not interchangeable):

Colloquialism - Informal or familiar language, such as contractions and slang ("Y'all come back now, hear?")

Euphemism - A metaphor whose literal meaning is dropped; often used as curse word substitutions, acronyms, or to 'soften' a literal meaning (i.e., IRA, dang, "passed on" instead of "died")

Idiom - A phrase whose meaning cannot be inferred by literal definition, and can only be known through common use ("that's the way the cookie crumbles," "wrong side of the tracks," etc)

So, now you know, and you don't have to lose any sleep over it, but YMMV. (I used all three in that sentence!)

A Treasured Story of Married Life

So, when I was in the gas station today, it reeked horribly of spoiled milk. It reminded me of a cherished story that I will share with you now.

Back in the day, my wife and I owned a house. Just prior, we lived in a duplex that had an unhealthy number of mice that also called the place home. Now, mice don't really bug me as much as some, namely my dearest love. The sight of one elicits such a piercing scream that it alerts anyone in the near vicinity (similar to a noise someone would make if they sliced off their hand accidentally), and it also causes our dog (who dearly loves mice) to go into a hunting frenzy!

While unsure how a solitary mouse crept into our new abode, it most certainly did. I was at work, and received a frantic call that there was A MOUSE! BEHIND THE STOVE! I did what I could to supress any sort of laughter fear on the phone, and told her to hold tight until I returned.

Little did I know what was in store for me.

Hours later, when I returned from a particularly agonizing day of work, I saw my love huddled on the couch. It looked like she had assumed the floor was hot lava (because mice make hot lava floors), and my dog was absolutely ecstatic, with an expression that said "Look, dad! I'm hunting!!" After trying to get the mouse to give itself up and come out, the only way I could get my wife to leave the safety of the couch-island was to agree to go to Home Depot to get some mousetraps. So we did.

Now, I know how to set mousetraps. But Home Depot didn't have regular mousetraps, they had 'improved' mousetraps, and nothing else. They featured a plastic trigger plate instead of a metal one. After returning home, the only improvement I saw was that it bruised my fingers at an incredible rate. After finally baiting and setting the traps, I thought my task was done, and we could retire to the bed-island, safe from mice and lava.

I was wrong.

My love also discovered what she identified as "mouse holes" (I thought they were for pipe access) under the sink and behind the water heater. So I had to seal them up. IMMEDIATELY. That task was surprisingly laborious, especially since I was really irritable to begin with from the long work day and swollen mousetrapped fingers. They were in tough spots, too, and I had to tape them shut with cardboard and duct tape (well-known mice deterrents).

I finally was able to sleep around eleven-thirty that evening, still mildly cross about the whole debacle. My final task was to dispose of the mouse when captured, dead or alive. So, a few short hours later, before leaving for work, I checked behind the stove. Sure enough, there it was, the mouse-turned-supervillain itself, slain by its insatiable desire for peanut butter. Poor guy. He looked so peaceful, lying prostrate on the deadly mechanism. I decided to let him remain for the time being. Out of respect for the dead, of course.

Early morning, I got a call from my dearest, asking if the mouse was there in the morning. I assured her it was not (sort of a 100% lie). I chuckled to myself after the call.

Around lunchtime, I received another call. She sounded frantic--she could smell the mouse now, and I think she may have even looked at it too.

"I need you to come home to get rid of it!" she declared.

"I can't," I said.

"Well, send one of your soldiers to get it!"

"No way. That's illegal. See if Indy would take it outside for you!"

"That's gross! Absolutely not!"

"And you're sure you won't do it, even with gloves?" I said. I probably shouldn't have. She didn't respond nicely after that. She did end up asking our neighbor to do it (and the neighbor's daughter, of eight  years of age, also proudly volunteered). The unliving terror was finally purged from our abode. I told her what actually happened some weeks later. She was a charming response between funny and mad, and seemed to get over it very quickly. A little...too quickly. 

Now, I said this story is about bad milk, and I'm getting to that. I told you that story in order to tell you this one:

I absolutely cannot stand %1 milk. You can make %1 milk by taking %2 milk and adding water. It's nasty milk-water, and I stand firm on my assessment. I will not drink it, period. And to that effect, we are a 2% milk household, bottom line. My love has committed "slight treason" from time to time by buying the impure substitute, but I won't have it.

So it came to pass that I went to the refrigerator to obtain some of this cow-nectar, and on opening the carton, I realized it smelled sour. Which was weird, because it was almost full.

"Hey, babe," I commented, "the milk seems bad..."

"Oh, it's not! I just bought it."

"Are you sure? It smells sour."

"Yeah, maybe it's just the outside rim that smells."

"Sure..." I say, while checking the date. "HEY! This milk expired two weeks ago!" 

She begins to laugh maniacally and almost falls off of the couch. "I've been reusing the same %2 carton for two weeks, and I've been putting %1 milk inside of it! You've been drinking 1% milk!"

My blood ran cold as I began to realize what had just happened.

I had been outmaneuvered. Hoodwinked! Bamboozled! I had let my guard down, and as a result I had poisoned myself with the nasty milk-water, and I hadn't even noticed. My wife was laughing so hard she was almost crying.

Let me tell you, my wife is the coolest person I know.

P.S. The 1% milk didn't kill me, by the way. I still drink 2% milk, but it's only out of principle now. And I always check the expiration date.

Company Car

I've only got eleven days left until Army lets me go...it's absolutely unreal. I will say that sometimes I worry about making the right decision. It's common Army knowledge that getting out at first opportunity isn't exactly the most secure or profitable avenue, nor is it paved with glory and purpose. I had a commander ask me the other day what job I had lined up, and after hearing a reply, he gave a quick chortle and went on to more popular conversation with other persons. It's honestly what I expect, though.

Army, as a community, is very tight and united on its purpose, its goals, its beliefs, values, and norms of conduct. What I'm doing goes against much of that, and the subliminal backlash has been evident in more than one occasion.

But let me not get too far off the point. After reading over Phillipians 2.7-11 this past weekend, I've realized that there is a very good reason for me to go this way. Not that I'm as awesome as Paul, or that I was hit with lightning that drove me to leave Army, but that there's a point to this madness. That there's a very good reason to put all-in on God. It seems that not a lot of people get the opportunity (or take the chance) to do such a thing. Win or lose, succeed or fail, I feel this is one of those things I need to do, and it will bother me until Jesus comes back if I let this go. I kind of liken it to people who want to climb Mt. Everest, or hike the Appalachian Trail in one go--not everybody gets the 'bug,' but if you get it, it's going to stare you in the face until the task is done.

And so, instead of mulling over why I carelessly related abandoning a career to do ministry to climbing Mt. Everest (and the repercussion of grossly inaccurate statements like that), I'm going to post a song that has been running circles around my mind as of late. There's nothing too special about the music itself, but the lyrics are haunting when you dwell on them.

May we never end up like "that guy."

Mike was right when he said I'd put up
A fight to be someone, a fight to be me 
But see now, I'm down 
Under the pavement 
Of Capital hills and lowercase people 
As time rolls by my dreams have become 
That which is attainable 
Not what I'm looking for! 

-Chorus-
I've got the company car 
I'm the one swinging at two below par 
Yeah, I've become one with the ones 
That I've never believed in 
But I've got the company car 

(Hey!) I'm the king of things I've always despised 
I'm the gingerbread man 
Who got eaten alive 
I'm half baked! I'm fake! 
But see I've got hotels on 
Park Place and Boardwalk 
And two hundred bucks 
I pass go but, Oh! Life's taken it's toll 
Have I won Monopoly to forfeit my soul? 

Chorus

All the kings horses 
At the foot of the wall 
They're taking pictures of 
The man who's lost all of his 
Masks of pretension 
He's got two faces left 
His is the one that he hides 
On the left behind that smile 

Hiding tears and fear 
That burn like an engine 
It drives him away 
From the ones that he loves 
Mike was right: 
"Hey Mike! We're one and the same 
We're the faceless combatants
in the loneliest game" 
Ah but say, I'll wave as I'm driving by 
With that smirk in my eye, yelling 
"Hey, I'm something man, check me out!"

Chorus

-Company Car by Switchfoot

McCain/Obama Comedy Hour!

Okay, guys, I know I said I'm off politics. It's true, I've let it take a back seat, and it's been great. But I did see this the other day, and I almost fell off of my chair (or pillow-on-the-floor, I don't have a chair) in how funny it was. 

So there's this charity dinner some Catholic diocese puts on every election year, and it's customary for the candidates to crack jokes for a bit. And that they did. If you've been inundated with politics as I have, you should have no problem whatsoever getting these jokes.

Here's McCain:

And here's Obama:

Like I said before...Funny stuff. Who would've thunk it?

World Of Goo

I don't plan on talking about video games that often, but one has come along recently that has really been a blast to play, and I highly recommend it if you have $20 to waste.

World Of Goo
Weird name, sure. The premise of the game is this: You have goo that makes structures out of itself, and you build a structure to a pipe to rescue the leftover goo and complete the level. Kind of Lemmings-esque. All the goo you save gets hauled off to a level where you build a massive tower and try to build higher than the other players around the world.

There's not enough good things I can say about it. The art is wonderful, the music is inspiring, the controls are sleek. You always feel like the gameplay is expanding with each new level. Probably the best game I've played in a year or two. Honest!

Not to mention, this is what would be called an "independent game." It was made by two (maybe three) people, and you can tell they put some love into it.

The bad things? Sometimes it's hard to select the goo you want (there's many different types) if there's a ton of it gooping around. And like all good games, it's shorter than one would like.

So, if you get bored (and have $20), try it out! It's pretty goo-d!

EDIT: Here's the link for the free demo. Enjoy!

World of Goo Launch Day Trailer from 2D Boy on Vimeo.

"We Have Met the Enemy..."

This comic was printed for Earth Day in 1971. It's part of a strip called "Pogo," and the line at the bottom is one of the more memorable quotes that I've come across.

We have met the enemy, and he is us.

The quote, specifically geared toward our destruction of the environment in the comic, speaks much deeper and broader than what's just pictured. It's something that skims across my mind, now and then, and unfortunately it's one of those times.

As you may have inferred, politics has claimed a good portion of my thought process as of late. Now with less than a month to go, the campaigns are getting nasty.

Recently, the McCain campaign has been touting that Obama's one time brief acquaintance with Mr. William Ayers (considered a terrorist in the 1960's and associated with several bombings, later considered Chicago's "Citizen of the Year" of 1997 for his philanthropy work) is more subversive and sinister than what it appears to be.

Tensions have been running high on both sides, needless to say.

I saw something today, however, that made me cringe. And it will surprise you. I saw footage of McCain having to tell some of his supporters that Obama "was a decent man," that they had "nothing to fear" of him becoming president, and that he's not an Arab. It looked horribly painful for McCain to say. I didn't expect it. And do you know what happened after saying that? He was booed by his own supporters. Even though I'm for the other team, that made me cringe, and I feel terrible for the guy. I don't think I can watch that video through for a while.

Not that I can say that I'd be any better than his supporters. In this war of hyper-partisanship, I've been pretty quick to take up arms (on occasion), and I frequent news sites to eagerly search for any news that my side is winning, and the other side is losing. I especially like it when I get news that validates my claim that I am "more correct" than others who won't vote like me.

It's so easy to demonize people--it's a way of us trying to validate our sin, to make it okay to dislike, slander, and harm those we don't want to love. And it's wrong.

For those of you that are like me, here's some friendly verses to cut you to the core:
Matthew 5.43-48
1 Peter 1.13-21
Colossians 3.1-8
Luke 18.9-14

I've been speaking about how dangerous that is for a while now, but I haven't exactly put planks before specks on that one. And I've done that several times now.

I'm sorry, guys, for all those times my political fervor got out of line, and thinking I was walking around with a pure heart and superior intellect with my views. I was way off.

Donald Miller and that Osama Guy

Hey, all. I have a feeling that I've been too immersed in politics as of late. Do you ever get that feeling? No? Just me?

Well, maybe it's just the season. This October almost promises to be absolutely filled to the brim with scandalous claims and dirty maneuvers by both teams--I hope I get through it with my sanity intact (and dignity, if it's not too much to ask). I really also hope my team wins. Go Donkeys!

The bad part about getting involved in politics is that it will shape your world if you let it. That is to say, if you hang your hopes on a politician, or you validate your fears on the same, then you're liable to get in a bit of trouble. You may start (mentally) handing things you've reserved for God over to some guy you've probably never met. But you might not notice it at first--which is pretty destructive if you start calling certain things Christian that aren't really Christian at all, but rather personal agenda assumed to be conviction.

Okay, now that's on the table, and you know what to call me out on when you see it.

So...I'm definitely voting for Obama this go-around. If that's news to you, we should probably talk more. I've been intrigued with him since the You Tube debates of last year. I've done plenty of research on him and what his platform is, and I don't think there's much anyone can do to change it at this point.

My voting preference seems to put me at odds with a few people. Heck, I'll be honest, a lot of people. I mean, I live in Kansas (solidly red since the '70s), I work for Army (Obama is for hippies), and I'm a Christian, for crying out loud. That's three easy gimmes for the McCain team! Ever since my wife left the state, I've thought the Ft. Riley chapter of the Kansas Democratic Party lost about half its members. So why do I insist on dropping an almost insignificant ballot against the masses?

It's very possible that's how I've decided to rebel against all authority and stick it to the man the only legal way I know how. But I generally like to think better about my motives. I like his judgement for the Iraqi war (pre-surge, when it began in '03), I like the fact that he'll talk to countries again that was previously deemed the "Axis of Evil," I think his health care plan has a great shot of working, I like his tax plan. All those things I like. I also think Obama is a very solid Christian who is extremely comfortable of bringing his faith to the forefront.

But what about abortion and gay marriage? Yeah, those bug me at times (the former far more than the latter). Frequently. But then again, I can't say the Red Team has exactly put those issues to the forefront. I get the feeling that the whole Republican stance for those issues is completely disingenuous--that it's merely pandering for one of their key voting blocks.

I've had so many conversations with Republicans and/or Christians about how I'm going to vote, and it always seems to end up the same way--either I talk about issues and I get criticized for not voting my faith, or I talk about how I my vote for Obama is faith-oriented and I'm told I need to pay attention to the issues. Maybe that's just the way it's done around here, but it gets pretty exhausting.

My lovely wife must've been reading my mind--she just recently sent me a link to Donald Miller's blog (he's the Blue Like Jazz guy), and it seems Don's going to do some forums for Obama in this last crazy month. Now, I liked the book he wrote. No, I don't consider myself emergent or hip, but I just really liked the book.

Anyway, Don wrote a bit on why he's doing forums of faith for the Obama Campaign. I'm glad to see he's done his research, and I find that I currently strongly agree with the little that he's written.

You can see the whole article here.

Well, regardless of what team you're rooting for this season, I hope we can begin to encourage one another in that there's far more to life that the game of politics, and our salvation lies elsewhere.

God Bless.

Long Night at the Battalion (or Thinking About Planetariums)

Why, hello everyone. It's almost 2 a.m. here, which means I've got about...another 20 hours (it would be 17 if I wasn't watching the Palin/Biden comedy hour tomorrow) before I get some real sleep. Why Army decides to do it this way, I'm not quite certain. Regardless, here am I.

It's not that bad, I suppose. I get to catch up on work (which I have little of these days, comparatively). I get to catch up with my man Olbermann on the web (same funny stuff, as long as you're of a certain political persuasion). I get to bring all my cool Christian books to work that I've been meaning to catch up on and leave them on my desk because I got so bored I'm not in the mood to read them.

One of these nights, spend a couple minutes looking at those stars. I don't know about you, but if I stare at them long enough, I start remembering those days of being in grade school and going to the local planetarium. That was pretty weird, but neat in a way. It's this big dome with circular seating (so you could flick pennies across the room when it got dark), a huge Star-Wars-looking contraption in the middle, and some strange dude who would get fussy if you tried to touch any equipment. After settling down the class (fat chance), the guy would dim the lights, put the 'droid' in motion, and put on some hypnotic transcendental music and talk about constellations, using a sweet laser pointer (because those were cool back then) to point out groups of stars that seemed to have no significance.

So that's what I think about when I stare at stars for a moderately long time.

If I stare at them even longer, I start thinking about how old and far those stars are, and about how they got there, and why God put Orion's Belt and the Ursula Minor and the Little Spoon just so. I think about what people of long ago thought when they looked at the stars. When Paul or Isaiah or Jacob looked at those stars, what did they think? What did they dwell on? Certainly not about planetariums.

I'm sure sometimes they looked at the stars because they were bored. But sometimes, I think they needed some perspective. It's a very vulnerable place to be, out there among those stars. You start to feel very small. For me, that's a good thing. My mind starts to get quiet, and sometimes it even listens. There's a real sense of eternity that seems to fall from those little twinkly things. Makes it seem like the tiny space we occupy, and the little time we have are insignificant, yet important all at the same time.

You should try it some time. Without the goofy music and laser pointer, of course.